Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Malawi and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing K-Klass to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by X-101. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Prince Buster,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Moody Blues,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gabor Szabo,
Radio Birdman,
Eric Copeland,
Grey Daturas,
Slave,
Fear,
T.S.O.L.,
The Star Department,
A Certain Ratio,
Ludus,
Warren Ellis,
Scratch Acid,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Angry Samoans,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Spandau Ballet,
Fifty Foot Hose,
One Last Wish,
DNA,
Tubeway Army,
Arcadia,
The Zeros,
Judy Mowatt,
Sonic Youth,
the Slits,
Frankie Knuckles,
Suburban Knight,
Sexual Harrassment,
Terry Callier,
Severed Heads,
Lightning Bolt,
Fad Gadget,
PIL,
The Gap Band,
Lindisfarne,
Buzzcocks,
Youth Brigade,
Eden Ahbez,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Josef K,
Morten Harket,
Little Man,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sparks,
Chris & Cosey,
The Saints,
Rufus Thomas,
Outsiders,
Lucky Dragons,
The Cowsills,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Danielle Patucci,
Can,
Magazine,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
R.M.O.,
Pierre Henry,
Roger Hodgson,
Peter and Kerry,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.